


Sins of the Father

by HalcyonLegacy



Series: The Halcyon Legacy Stories [2]
Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-27
Updated: 2016-05-27
Packaged: 2018-07-10 14:24:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6988897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HalcyonLegacy/pseuds/HalcyonLegacy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set between the events of The Final Flight of the Acheron and the newly released Halcyon Academy, this short story details the fall of Asmodeus Halcyon, and sets in motion a new direction for the Halcyon Clan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

 

This is how it happened.

This is the story of how everything changed.

It was not long after the Tartarus Event that Asmodeus Halcyon made the decision to expand his holdings. He had special projects on the mind that would require more stable funding to process, and his own financial standing would have to be bolstered to accomplish this. Thus he approached several like-minded Sith from various positions within the Empire, and proposed an arrangement. These 5 men, and Asmodeus himself, would go into business together. Where one lacked, the other provided. Where one partner was weak, there would be another partner that was strong. They protected and covered each other's operations to mutual benefit, and the extra funding it provided allowed Asmodeus not only the financial security he required, but also a position of power and influence beyond that he previously held on his own.

Though most were content for Asmodeus to lead them through as he had always done, there were some within the Phantom Legion who began to question this leadership. The last several years had been utterly chaotic, and most of these troubles could be directly tied to Asmodeus himself, or with the clan that he led as a family. There were even those bold enough to openly call for his impeachment as head of the Council. Such voices, bold as they were, knew better than to speak these concerns aloud in his presence.

Among these detractors was one in particular who believed that Asmodeus' leadership was not only detrimental to the Legion, but in fact would see all members lives laid low at the man's whim. This was unacceptable in his mind, and so he began his plot to have Asmodeus removed from power. He knew the only way Asmodeus would ever hand over the reigns would be if he were no longer able to lead, physically. An assassination attempt, if only partially successful, would be sufficient to remove him from the playing field. But everything must be planned carefully. Scheme over scheme, moves ahead of moves, a plan was set into motion.

Deep beneath the surface of the prison planet Belsavis, a young girl was running. The sound of her scrambling footsteps was a unique one, as it was offset by the clanging of metal against metal. Interspliced with the off-beat footsteps, the whoosh of a hydraulic pump could be heard. Kaikorero, a young orange-skinned Togruta, had stolen a pack of officer's rations from a guard outpost, and was now fleeing down the high-ceilinged tunnels to safety. The guards had given up the chase long ago, but nearby prisoners knew that little Kai was adept at finding food, and that if they caught her, she could trade that food for her life.

Kaikorero scurried around a corner to break line-of-sight, and quickly turned the crank on her mechanical leg. The hydraulics hissed again, the timer began. In three second, the pump would be released. Kai took a running start, and then jumped. Thoom! the hydraulics fired, and the cybernetic leg launched her high in the air. She disappeared through a paneling in the ceiling, and the inmates in pursuit rounded the corner to find an empty hallway.

She giggled as she watched through a vent as the prisoners began to argue angrily about whose fault it was that the girl had been lost. After the fight had died down, she climbed up through the vents to a junction point in the system that she had long ago made her home. It wasn't much to speak of, the vents were small enough that she could just barely squeeze through, though she had managed to smuggle up enough scraps of blankets and old clothes to make a decent enough bed. Scattered about the tiny room were bits and pieces of various broken and disassembled tech. She had been scavenging for years, trying to build herself a long-range communicator.

Kaikorero had been born on the prison planet. Her grandfather had committed some crime against the Republic and had been hidden away here in secret. She was the third generation of her family to suffer for crimes they had not committed. Her mother, her last relative, had died in a prison riot when she was very young. Belsavis was all she had ever known, and to be able to speak with the outside universe, to contact someone that existed outside this hell...

Kaikorero snacked on one of the rations she had stolen while working on her comm station. One day, she would speak with someone from the outside. Someday she would establish that link, and find a way out of this world of violence and starvation. This, the only world she had ever known.

After several hours of tinkering, she went to bed, closing the book on yet another day of defeat. She had no use for wallowing, however. Feeling sorry for one's self had no place in a prison. Not even when she lost her leg did she despair. It was only an opportunity to apply herself to the study of cybernetics. A little girl hobbling around on one leg might as well hang a sign on her neck reading "free meal" down here.

"You're a resourceful little brat, aren't you?"

Kaikorero's heart leapt as her eyes shot open. A new voice.

She turned in her bed to find the communicator online and transmitting. The voice...it had come from it? Had it been a dream?

She crawled over to the derelict comm and tapped it several times.

"You speak Basic, I assume?"

The voice startled her again, and she hopped in the air with a cry and a giggle. "Yes! Yes! Hello? Can you hear me?"

"I can. But we don't have much time, so you must listen carefully. Do you want off of this world?"

A tear rolled down her cheek. Could this be happening? "Yes, of course! More than anything."

The calm voice continued. "I can get you off world. I have a private shuttle that can sneak in, collect you, and get you off world. But at a price."

"What do you want? Whatever it is, I can get it! I can steal anything, anything at all!"

"I don't want something stolen. I want someone dead."

She stopped, and her smile faded. Was this it?

Silence on the line.

She looked down at her mechanical leg. She remember how she lost the original, and what she had had to do to escape that.

"I don't have time to indulge you. Are you in?" The voice was cold, impatient.

Kaikorero stretched her jaw, her sharp teeth clamping down on the last meal she would eat on this horrible planet. "I'm in."


	2. Chapter 2

Twin suns set on Tatooine.

The air slowly began to cool as shadows lazily stretched over the desert, ready to claim this side of the planet for night once more.

A young woman stood in front of a burning pyre. This endless sand was useless when it came to burying a body, and she would not have his bones picked at by the scavengers. He deserved better than that. He deserved so much more than the agony his final months had given him.

She had watched him waste away, ever since they had escaped. He seemed cut off from his own life force, and advanced in years as he was, he seemed to age even faster toward the end. It pained her to see his strength leave him in such a way. He was once so strong, so powerful. By the time he had passed, he was little more flesh and bone.

Still, he had been her rescuer. He had delivered her from the torment she had been subjected to from her earliest days. She owed him everything, and now that he was gone, the task of his vengeance fell to her.

Calliope packed her bag with her only belongings, and set out towards the nearest spaceport.

"Goodbye, Father. I will avenge you."

Soon, the ashes of Doctor Passus blew in the wind and mixed with the endless sands of the Dune Sea.

* * *

"So then it is settled. Lord Japheth will send a complement of his forces to Taris to assist in Lord Latson's resettlement efforts. Latson will make appropriate recompense to Japheth's coffers."

A dark conference room. Five Sith Lords were represented by holocall. A sixth was absentmindedly drumming his fingers on the table. These proceedings were beneficial, but also frightfully long-winded at times.

"Next item of business. Lord Spiriac is requesting a number of rare items from various Republic-controlled worlds in the Core systems. Judging by the list, most of which appears to be various faunas and plantlife, is this correct?"

"That is correct, Lord Rundes." Spiriac stood to address those gathered. His face tendrils quivered. "My science division is experimenting with various toxins, and the current tension between the Empire and the Republic has made the purchase of such items a headache."

"I can handle that."

The Sith turned to face the large man seated in his dark conference room. Rundes addressed him directly. "Lord Asmodeus?"

Spiriac was to be commended. If there was a sneer forming beneath the surface, he hid it well.

Asmodeus spoke again. "I have contacts in the Core worlds. It would be a simple matter for them to gather the items you need and have them transported to me."

Rundes returned to business. "Settled then. Lord Asmodeus will be sent the list of requested items and have them procured. Lord Spiriac will make appropriate recompense to Lord Asmodeus' coffers."

Spiriac nodded to Asmodeus, and took his seat.

"If there are no further matters to discuss, I move to close the meeting."

"Seconded." This voice came from Darth Tortha, an older Sith who rarely spoke during these meetings. Asmodeus appreciated Tortha's restraint in the face of these other windbags.

"Meeting adjourned then. Until next week."

The holocom switched off and the lights came up in the conference room. Asmodeus rose from his chair and winced at the popping sounds coming from his back. Though his clan benefited from an extremely slow aging process, he was already old before it began, and he felt older still. He stretched and pulled out his datapad, reviewing it as he left the room. He enjoyed being here, on the flagship of his organization. The Harrower class vessel, known to the galaxy as the Haymaker's Vigil, was a second home to him, and he conducted the majority of his business here.

"Asmo!" A familiar voice echoed down the hallway. The large Sith sighed again and put away the datapad. He turned to find Barrow, the jovial Rattataki approaching with a small orange-skinned Torgruta child. "Asmo, hey, this is the new arrival I told you about."

Asmodeus nodded and addressed the young girl. "Greetings, child. I am Asmodeus Halcyon, your new benefactor." He extended his hand.

The Torgruta girl smiled shyly. She extended her own hand, which completely disappeared in the meaty handshake that followed. "I am Kaikorero."

Asmodeus nodded again. "I've heard a great deal about you, Kaikorero. It has been quite some time since a Halcyon has been chosen naturally. It is a rare event, one that I was certain I would never see again." Asmodeus eyed her carefully as she shifted her weight. He took careful notice of her mechanical leg, which anyone could see had undergone recent modification. "I'm told you grew up in the deep vaults of Belsavis. Amazing that you even survived, much less escaped. I'd love to have dinner with you soon. I'm sure you have a great many exciting stories to tell."

Kaikorero curtsied awkwardly. "It would be my pleasure, my lord."

Asmodeus smiled and nodded in dismissal. "Barrow, please ensure that Miss Kaikorero has everything she needs."

"Sure thing, boss. Also, I'm supposed to tell you that Oryon is looking for you."

"Thank you."

* * *

Asmodeus descended down the lift to the crew deck, where a small crowd had gathered outside the medical bay. Asmodeus could hear Oryon's raving from the lift, and he cringed that he would have to have this conversation with the cantankerous Chiss yet again. He silently moved through the crowd and entered the med bay. A glass beaker shattered against the doorframe, narrowly missing Asmodeus' head. He turned to avoid the glass shards.

"You!"

Asmodeus straightened up, no longer amused. Oryon, the blue-skinned doctor, was once again on one of his tirades.

"I've been requesting new Double-Pulse Implant Processors for weeks now, and there are crates of them up here! Crates! Since when does the nurse get better access to supplies than the Medical Officer?"

Asmodeus held up a hand to silence the doctor. "You chose to keep your lab on the Tatooine base. Zal'vor is in charge of the lab here on the ship. That was your decision, Doctor."

Oryon scowled. "How rediculous of me to assume that these new resources might be put to good use in upgrading my lab, instead of building this gaudy new nurse's station on the ship. Its bad for appearances, Asmodeus. We can't have the mobile lab in better condition than the one at Headquarters. It sends the wrong message!"

"You are just afraid that people will start to see Zal'vor as their primary physician, while you are back on Tatooine treating sandburns."

Oryon frowned again, his face so twisted that Asmodeus feared his jaw might drop right off. He pointed a scalpel at Asmodeus. "You've chosen to shut me out, and that is fine. But now you are denying proper medical supplies to-"

Asmodeus held up a hand again. "I'm going to stop you there. You chose to distance yourself from me, Oryon. And despite whatever personal grievances you and I may have, I would never deny medical treatment to any of my team out of spite. The medical supplies you need are here, on the Vigil. You are welcome to gather from this stock any time you need."

He turned his back on Oryon. "No more tantrums. Its not befitting for a doctor."

Oryon scowled as the Sith left. He gripped the scalpel tightly in his hand.

"One day, you'll turn your back on me for the last time..."


	3. Chapter 3

The Jedi Michael Halcyon did not have a lot of free time on his hands these days. Most of the time, he had to remind himself to take time to eat or sleep, as there was always something or someone demanding his attention. Still, he made sure to take a little time away at least once a month. He would board his ship and fly out into the black, parking in some distant quadrant off the usual spacelanes. He'd spend a day or two in silence, taking his mind off of his obligations, and allow himself to be separate and apart from the galaxy for a short time. It was good for him, and was probably good for the galaxy as well.

Lately he had been keeping his mind entertained down in the cargo bay, where a makeshift garage had taken hold. Michael never slept better than when he dropped into his bed after a long day with a hydrospanner in his hands and oil stains on his clothes. It did not matter what he worked on, so long as he did it as any other man would. No Force, no lightsaber, nothing special. Just him, a few tools, and a machine to be fixed. It was calming to him. Doing this, working with his hands, it helped clear his mind, and when he eventually returned to his responsibilities, he could do so with a fresh outlook.

And yet, Michael's mind was not clear. His outlook was not fresh. In fact, he was more troubled than he had been in quite some time. Now his brow dripped with sweat, his teeth gritted, and his hands ached as he built something new. Something that must be kept secret, lest the wrath of Asmodeus fall upon him.

Long ago, he and seven other men had been ripped from their homes and exiled, due to the actions of the large Sith himself. Michael had tried to stop him, they were enemies in those days, but his actions only ended up placing more blood on his hands. Since then, he had tried to make the best of the situation. He made this new galaxy his home, and even kept a shaky truce with the man whose folly had placed them here.

Recently, it had become apparent that Asmodeus was up to his old ways, interfering in powers and energies that no mortal man had any business tampering with. The wreck of the Acheron had given up a final gift before its destruction, an artificial gateway device that Asmodeus had created a very long time ago. He had used this device to punch through dimensional rifts, fueling the machine with the lifeforces of beings similar to him, other dimensional Halcyons. Asmodeus had gone to great lengths to recover this device, and while it was not yet certain if the device could function without leeching the energies of living beings, he had been successful in using the device to open miniature rifts in contained spaces. Suddenly, new Halcyons were appearing.

Michael did not see this as a coincidence.

The situation had gone on long enough. With this latest development, the status quo could not be kept any longer.

* * *

Kaikorero was given a small apartment with a woman named Tal'aran, who kept a safehouse for the Halcyons on Nar Shaddaa. Tal'aran was a recent addition to the family as well, though her initiation had been somewhat more experimental usual. Still, she seemed a sweet woman, and though she appeared not that much older that Kai herself, she spoke with the voice of someone who had lived a very long time indeed. She invited all her patrons to call her 'Mama', and took care of many of their needs. Kaikorero was immediately invited to make herself at home.

"Now little one, if you have need of laundry service, use the bag in your room. Set it outside your door in the mornings and it will be returned to you before dinner." Tal'aran showed her new resident around the brightly lit home floating high above the Promenade. "Kitchen is always open, just tell da cook what you like. In your own room, you do your own business. But everywhere else belong to Mama, and you follow Mama's rules, yes?"

Kaikorereo took an immediate liking to Tal'aran. This strange woman with the olive skin and unique accent was very welcoming, unlike anyone she had ever encountered on Belsavis. "Yes ma'am. Thank you so much, I...I think I am really going to like it here."

"Of course you will, child. Mama make sure of that. Dis your room here, it just a bed at'ta moment, but I have some furniture brought up later."

"Oh thats okay, Mama. I actually like it better this way." Kai entered her room and twirled as she looked around. Large windows overlooked the skyline of Nar Shaddaa, and far below she could see the Promenade, where people of all races and backgrounds gathered to shop and drink and gamble their lives away. It was like nothing she had ever seen.

"Very well, child. I leave you now to get settled in. You call for Mama if you need anyt'ing."

* * *

Tal'aran made her way downstairs, past the dining room, past the lounge, past all the areas she had just shown her new resident on the tour. She descended down to the lower levels of the floating platform, where the decor quickly shifted from entertainment to business. Instead of potted plants and cushy couches, down here there were large terminals and scanners. Digital readouts scrolled the walls, and a large holocom indicated an incoming call.

Tal'aran took a seat and accepted the call, crossing her legs as she sat. "Hello there."

On the holocom, a figure appeared. "Is she there?"

"She all set. Took good care of her. She loves her Mama already, I think."

"Excellent. And she has no suspicions?"

Tal'aran keyed a command on the nearby terminal, and a camera feed from Kaikorero's room came up on the monitor. The young Torgruta was unpacking a small comm terminal of her own, looking around to make sure no one was watching, unaware that she was in fact being observed. Tal'aran watched the young girl carefully. "Dat girl, she's got secrets for sure. But no, she do not know. Mama make her feel safe. But dere nothing happens in Mama's house that Mama don't know about."

The figure on the comm nodded. "Keep me updated. I don't know what kind of game Asmodeus is playing, but I want to be prepared for anything."

"Tal'aran nodded and switched off the comm. "Any'ting you want, Master Halcyon..."


	4. Chapter 4

Rishi. Sandy beaches, warm sun, and all the cheap rum you could drink. It was paradise for most spacers. There was almost no law to speak of, a free world where men and women could do as they pleased. One could sit in the marketplace for an hour and overhear the details of a dozen different illegitimate business enterprises. If you were looking to overhear something specific, all it took was patience and a few coins to spread a drink or two around.

Calliope soon found herself in awe of this magical world, where the locals offered shelter and food to complete strangers, and men traded secrets as easily as they would exchange greeting. She spent several months among the pirates, taking the odd job here and there. She took the opportunity to learn as much as she could about their ways. She studied stealth and poisons, dueling and pickpocketing. In no time, she had made herself a legend among the dregs, and it came at no surprise to anyone when she soon acquired a ship of her own.

What did come as a surprise, however, was how quickly she disappeared afterwards.

* * *

On Belsavis, Kaikorero had learned at a very early age that it was in her best interest to always be aware of the sounds around her. Like all Togruta, her montrals gave her an excellent sense of echolocation, and even as a child she had used this sense to avoid the more savage and brutal prisoners trapped with her in the vaults. She depended on her hearing even more so than her eyesight, especially when navigating the dark vents and tunnels that dug deep beneath the surface.

Her new home on Nar Shaddaa was full of sound. The Halcyon clan used Tal'aran's floating platform as something of a boarding house, and thus they came and went at all hours of the day and night. Some, like Kaikorero, rented rooms out for prolonged use. Others would come and stay for a night or two and then leave again. Kai, or 'Kiki' as Tal'aran had taken to calling her, enjoyed spending her time in the lounge, sipping tea with her host and getting to know the other members of her clan as they hustled about. She secretly began keeping track of each member, how they related to each other. who they got along with, who they didn't. In particular, she noted each member's relation to Asmodeus, and whether or not they could be used to get closer to him.

She spent her evenings locked in her room, keeping track of all her gathered intel on her encrypted terminal. She had never carried out an assassination before, and she wanted to leave no room for error. She would not strike until she could be certain that the crime could not be tied back to her. What use was her freedom if she were to lose it again so soon? She would create a foolproof plan, and when the moment was right, she would strike. All she needed what a chance to be alone with him...

A knock at her door startled her. She had been so engrossed with her plans that she had neglected the very sense that kept her alive all those years in her childhood. Tal'aran's voice came through the door. "Kiki, dear. You have a visitor!"

Kaikorero quickly closed the terminal and slid it under her bed. She turned and quickly made her way to the door. "Yes, Mama? Who is-"

Her voice trailed off as the door opened. A massive Sith Lord stood before her, dwarfing her and causing her to take a step backwards. Asmodeus Halcyon himself had come for her. He must have discovered the secret plot and come to kill her with his own two hands. She trembled slightly. Did she stand a chance? Could she possibly activate the holdout blaster in her mechanical leg before he lopped her head off with his saber? Should she try to run?

Asmodeus bowed his head as he entered the room to avoid hitting it on the doorframe. "Kaikorero..."

She took another step backwards and briefly contemplated going for the blaster.

"Would you join me for dinner?"

For the second time she was caught off guard. "I'm...sorry?"

The large Sith bowed and extended his hand. "It would honor me greatly if you would accompany me out to dinner. I understand that you have not had much time to build up a wardrobe, so I took the liberty of having Tal'aran do some shopping on your behalf." Two soldiers in Imperial uniform wheeled in a large locker. They positioned it opposite of the bed, bowed, and left.

Kiki was speechless. She stammered. "I...didn't..."

Asmodeus turned and left the room. "I'll have a taxi pick you up in an hour."

* * *

Exactly one and a half hours later, Kaikorero and Asmodeus were seated opposite each other in a luxury dining room above the grand hall in the Star Cluster Casino. Asmodeus was wearing a very regal uniform with very large pauldrons that exaggerated his already considerable presence. Kaikorero wore a purple gown with exposed shoulders. She wished she had brought a sweater.

Asmodeus ordered for them both, making a bit of a show out of tipping the waiter. Kaikorero glanced around the dining room. It was not full, but several other tables had been seated. Just enough to provide a reasonable amount of witnesses should something happen. She sighed. Had she been making this too complicated? She had a blaster hidden away, she could easily take it and fire it directly into his head. He wasn't immortal, Sith still die when you shoot them. The contract would be complete and she could escape. There would be witnesses, sure, but she could run far enough where it would make no difference. Start over, a new life.

She frowned. There was no reason to wait. With a flick of the wrist, the holdout blaster concealed in her mechanical leg was now in her hand. She kept it hidden underneath the table, readying herself to take the shot.

"I have something for you, child." Asmodeus gestured to one of the wait staff, who began to head over. "I cannot imagine that Belsavis has much in the way of happy memories for you, but it is important that we remember where we come from."

Kiki paused. What was he doing?

Asmodeus took a small bag from the man and placed it on the table before her. "I have...memories of my own from Belsavis. Despite its unfortunate circumstance, there is a great deal of fascinating history to be discovered." When Kaikorero did not open the gift, he reached inside for her and withdrew a small stone idol.

Her gun hand began to tremble.

Asmodeus continued. "The last time I was there, I ended up crawling through a series of tunnels quite by accident. I happened upon what I can only imagine to be some sort of depository of the Rakata. I found a great many interesting things down there, but of all them, I prized this piece most of all." He turned the idol to face her. It had a wide stone base, and it depicted a humanoid woman kneeling in a garden. The craftsmanship was elegant, and there was a quiet beauty and sadness to the sculpture. Kaikorero looked upon and felt a twist of regret in her belly. Despite all she had agreed to do to escape, she felt hopelessly homesick.

Asmodeus leaned back into his seat. "I hope it brings you some measure of fortune. I know how hard it can be to be away from home."

Kaikorero felt tears in her eyes. She quietly replaced the blaster back into its holster, and smiled.

"Thank you."


	5. Chapter 5

Michael Halcyon was not a fan of his doppelganger.

During the Exile of his clan, Michael had mistakenly absorbed the dark personality of another version of himself from a far darker dimension. He lived with that darkness inside of him for years, warring with two different personalities of himself until the darker Michael was extracted and returned to its host body by the nefarious Doctor Passus. This anti-Michael went by the Sith moniker of Darth Pravitas, and single handedly brought down the rest of his clan so that Passus could continue his twisted experiments. They had only been able to escape when Michael used Passus' own heinous machines to combine the twin personalities once again into a single entity, and then split half of that entity between them. The newly reborn Pravitas had taken his place in the clan and helped them escape.

Once returned to the Halcyon's home universe, Pravitas and Michael came to the conclusion that since neither of them were very fond of the other, they would position themselves on opposite sides of the galactic scale. Michael continued his work with the Republic and the Order of Mercy, which he founded. Darth Pravitas joined the ranks of the Phantom Legion, Asmodeus' proto-Imperial movement. They met up from time to time, as small doses of each other were tolerable and even informative. It was not uncommon for such meetups to begin amicably and yet end in broken furniture and bans from various establishments.

More often than not, it was Michael who turned aggressive. He had a very difficult time accepting Pravitas, as much as he would have liked to. Not only did the man share much in common with him, but he was also in a situation that Michael could very much relate to. Torn from his home, his lot cast with a strange new family, Michael could relate. Yet he did not feel like he had gained a brother. Looking at Pravitas, at how he interacted with the others, he felt more like he had met his replacement. How does one react seeing an identical person joining his friends and family? It did not help that Pravitas was currently in a very ill-advised relationship with the young Jedi Lilia, who shared a very familial bond with Michael. The younger Jedi was like a sister to him, and knowing that they were together gave Michael chills up and down his spine whenever he thought about it.

But Michael had a plan. One that could not be completed without Pravitas' help. And so he had invited his counterpart to a cantina on Tatooine in an attempt to convince Pravitas to join in with him. It would not be terribly difficult to persuade him, Michael believed, as long as the Sith did not detect the sheer amount of deception that Michael would be lacing into his words.

Pravitas did eventually arrive at the cantina, though several hours late. He found Michael at a table near the back, sharing space with several empty glasses. He took his seat. "I thought Jedi weren't supposed to drink?"

Michael tried to respond with something witty. "Piss off." He failed.

"Charming, as usual." He made no effort to disguise his irritation. "Did you bring me here to yell at me again?"

Michael straightened in his chair. "Why? Have you done something to deserve it?"

"I really hate you."

"Yeah, well, that probably says more about you than it does me." Michael sipped his drink and winked at one of the Twi'lek girls dancing on the stage.

Pravitas looked to the girl and scowled. "You're a pig."

Michael turned to face the other man and put his arms on the table. "As much as I'd like to do the whole rubber-glue routine with you again, I didn't actually plan on arguing today. I need your help."

Pravitas settled back into his seat. "That's rich. Let me guess. You want to commit a crime and are hoping to pin it on me?"

"Not a bad idea, but not what I had in mind." Michael took another sip of his drink. "Actually, I need help with something, and it has to be you." Pravitas raised an eyebrow, Michael continued. "I've built a device that I believe is capable of manually opening a Rift."

"I'm out." Pravitas stood suddenly.

"No wait!" Michael grabbed the other man's arm and pulled him back into the seat. Pravitas rolled his eyes. "Listen, this isn't like before! I believe I can create a small, contained Rift and sustain it. Do you realize what that means?"

"It means you don't learn."

"No." Michael frowned. "It means we might get to go _home_."


	6. Chapter 6

"Doctor's log, patient #2742, name...ugh, who cares? One of the grunts."

"Hey! My name is-"

"I swear to god, if you interrupt me again I'll suture your lips to your rectum.."

Oryon shot a dirty look to the Imperial soldier lying on the bunk, and then continued his report. "Treatment for sandburn and heatstroke because the idiot let himself get dehydrated while on patrol. Passed out like a ninny. Treated with antibiotics and rehydrators. Patient requested painkillers. Request was denied on account of the fact that painkillers are for real injuries."

Oryon sighed and set his datapad down on the countertop. The Empire supplied these soldiers for manpower at Legion outposts, but Oryon was starting to suspect that they were not being given the picks of the litter. It seemed that far too much of his precious time was wasted treating these soldiers for asinine injuries. "Incompetent academy rejects and flunk outs."

"Excuse me?" The soldier on the bunk lifted his head at the remark, but quickly laid back down after another look from the Chiss doctor. Oryon added a syringe of sedative to the man's IV bag, and it was less than a minute later that the soldier was out cold.

Oryon had made the decision to spend some time ground level at the Legion's home base on Tatooine. He claimed it was to get back to his roots for a while, practicing medicine on a local level. In reality, he had needed to distance himself from Asmodeus for a while. For years the Sith had been playing his plans close to the chest, taking risks and making decisions that affected all their lives. Oryon used to be a part of that process, advising him and opposing him when he crossed a line. It seemed that lately, however, Asmodeus had begun to feel that he and he alone had the right and the power to make these kind of decisions. After the events at the Tartarus facility, where their lives were put in extreme peril more than once, Oryon had come to the decision that something had to change. Asmodeus could no longer be allowed to play games with their lives.

The old man was crafty, however. If Oryon had planned to make any move against him while operating so close to him, the Sith would have picked up on it. It was imperative that he put some distance between the two of them before any action was taken. Oryon was clever too, and knew that for some problems, only the most carefully executed of solutions would succeed.

Oryon sat down at his desk and brought up his comm panel. He keyed in an encrypted 36 digit code and waited patiently for the comm channel to be secured. After a few minutes, a blurred image of a young woman appeared on the holo. The encryption was heavy, and intentionally fragmented to prevent either side of the communication from seeing the other clearly. This worked to Oryon's favor, as he could see Kaikorero clearly on the hidden camera he had coerced Tal'aran to place in the young woman's room, but she would be unable to see him clearly.

"Report in."

The young woman shifted uncomfortably. "He took me to dinner last night. Gave me...you know. Clothes and stuff."

Oryon smiled. This was perfect. "Excellent. His guard is as down as it will ever be. The timing could not be better."

Kaikorero shifted again, her leg tapping nervously. "Are you sure?"

"He's buying you gifts, personally taking you out to dinner? If he were any younger he'd be courting you. He's accepted you. This is the chance we've waited for. Its time to move forward with the plan."

A groan came from the cot beside him. Oh, of all the inconvenient...

"I have to go. Get started with the next phase of the plan, immediately." He cut the comm and looked back at the soldier nearby. Had he been waking through any of that? How much had he heard?

Oryon pulled out his datapad and struck the latest log from the record. He began to dictate a new one.

"Patient's log, #2742. Subject presented with minor injuries. Unfortunately, Psych must have mis-evaluated him. Patient was obviously suicidal, and injected himself with a fatal dose of anesthesia when my back was turned." He choked back a fake sob. "It never gets any easier."

He closed the datapad and prepared another dose of sedative.

* * *

A flash of light. A loud BOOM echoed through Michael's Coruscant apartment. Pravitas yanked back on a rope as hard as he could, and Michael Halcyon came tumbling out of the miniature Rift suspended in the air just before it grew unstable and slammed closed. "You idiot!" Pravitas yelled, running over to Michael. "I told you this was too risky."

Michael was grinning like an idiot. "It works. It works. Pravitas, I was there. I was home. It works!"

Pravitas sighed. He had a bad feeling about this. "Its too unstable. There's no way we could keep it open long enough to-"

A flash of light. A crack of thunder. The Rift suddenly ripped back open and roared in pain. Pravitas and Michael shielded their eyes, and a man stepped through.

He was tall, and surrounded by a golden aura. He looked down at Pravitas and Michael angrily.

Michael was shellshocked. "A...Guardian?"

The golden man nodded. "We need to talk."


	7. Chapter 7

The Empire was in uproar.

Overnight, five high-ranking and influential Sith Lords had been assassinated in their homes. By the time morning broke on Dromund Kaas, news was already spreading through the farthest reaches of holonet. The list of the victims was a who's who of wealthy and prominent among the Imperial elite.

Tortha

Rundes

Spiriac

Latson

Japheth

All five had been poisoned to weaken their constitution, and then attacked with a bladed weapon. The timing of the attacks, the precautions taken, the identical methods used, all law enforcement officials agreed that these heinous crimes were perpetrated by a single individual with a specific goal. As a result, and at the behest of his advisors, security at the estate of Asmodeus Halcyon was tripled. It would not be long before news of his business arrangements with the victims was made public, and the Imperial Guard did not know if Asmodeus, who had just inherited the estates of his business partners, was a suspect, or the next in line for the killer.

The apartment complex that held Asmodeus' rooftop penthouse was evacuated of all other tenants by the Guard, who stood watch over the building night and day. Asmodeus found himself in a unique position. With the others gone and their assets passed to him via their Survivor's contract, Asmodeus was now one of the wealthiest and most powerful Sith Lords in the Empire, save for the Dark Council themselves. Yet, he was confined to his tower as the Imperial Guard both guarded against the assassin and investigated Asmodeus for foul play. His assets had been frozen during the investigation, and he could do little but remain in his complex and wait for the investigation to clear him from any wrongdoing, or for the assassin to come for him.

He stood in his main dining room, looking out through the large windows at the skyline of Dromund Kaas. He could feel the weight of great anticipation upon him. A feeling of both dread and excitement. Little did he know how the events of this evening would change him, and his clan, forever.

* * *

"Well, I feel a bit like a guy meeting his ex-wife's new husband for the first time."

Michael Halcyon and his Sith doppelganger Pravitas squared off against the man shining with golden aura before them. He wielded no weapon, but exuded no fear. He floated above the floor by a few inches, looking down upon them with a disapproving frown. Michael had recognized that aura immediately, as he had long ago wielded the same power. Pravitas paid the stranger's power no mind, and regarded him simply as an invader from a foreign galaxy. He growled through the side of his mouth at Michael. "You always make quips. You aren't even good at it."

Michael lowered his saber and looked at Pravitas in mock indignation. "How can you say that? We are great at quipping."

Pravitas snapped back. " 'We' aren't anything, idiot! 'You' and 'I', separate people! When are you going to get that?"

"Well it'd be easier if I didn't feel like I was looking into a particularly dirty mirror every time I talk to you!"

"Don't start with that, Great White Hope, if I were as pale as you I'd be jumping to the Dark Side just to get a little color!"

"See? We are quippers!" Michael grinned triumphantly.

_Ahem!_

The two Halcyons were brought back to the task at hand when the Guardian cleared his throat. "If you two are quite finished. We have to speak."

Michael grumbled at the hovering intruder. "Listen pal, you're in my house. And your little Guardian glow don't fool me. I wielded that power myself, and it does NOT work here."

"Silence."

The Guardian raised a hand, and a golden flash of light swiped both men behind their knees, forcing them to the ground. "Hey! What the hell?" Pravitas was unable to move, his hands outstretched in front of him. "Great. You brought a god through the Rift. Excellent planning, idiot."

The Guardian spoke. "The Halcon lineage was exiled for a reason. Your clan was unstable, toying with the Laws of the Nexus at your own whims. This galaxy negates your power, rendering you unable to harm it. And yet, you Exiles have done little else but attempt to force your way back through the Rifts."

Michael was not grinning anymore. The weight of his past sins he had carried all his life was back, unearthed from the dark place inside himself he had it buried. "..I just...wanted to go home."

"This is your home now, Exile. I am here to ensure it. You were granted a final shard of the Guardian power when you were sent here. You and your clan has benefited from the Guardian's longevity. You have proven yourselves unworthy to receive it. I am here to take it from you."

The golden man raised a hand again. "This Rift behind me is the final entryway to this galaxy. When I part through it, it will be sealed permanently. The Halcyons will go down in the outside universe as a cautionary tale of what happens when Guardians are corrupted by their power."

He closed his fist. "I take back your final inheritance. You, and your clan, now mortal. You will live out the rest of your lives in exile, and die. So it is commanded."

A blast of golden energy pierced through Pravitas and Michael from behind. They arched their backs and screamed in pain. The Guardian absorbed the last remnants of Nexus energy from every Halcyon in the Exile Galaxy, sealing their fates, and changing them forever.

* * *

_One Hour Earlier..._

"Dammit! Now is the time, you have to do it right now! I command you!"

Oryon was infuriated. The news of the assassinations had just reached him. He knew his own assassin Kaikorero was not responsible, which meant someone else was gunning for Asmodeus as well, and he was not about to let anyone steal his moment of triumph. "This is what I paid you for! I swear, if you do not kill Asmodeus now I will drop you back on that miserable rock I found you on!"

The encryption on the holovid scrambled again, but Oryon could make out Kaikorero's form. She shuffled uneasily back and forth. "I'm...sorry. I can't."

The transmission cut out. Oryon howled in anger. Decades of service to that pompous schemer, only to be jerked around again and again. He finally had his plan in place to remove Asmodeus permanently, and it had tripped at the finish line. No matter. If his planted agent could not complete her mission, he would have to finish it himself.

He grabbed his rifle and steered his ship back to Dromund Kaas. He would kill Asmodeus himself if he had to.

* * *

Haborym walked through the empty corridors of the abandoned tenement building. He liked the silence. Ever since his treatment which had healed many of the scars in his brain tissue, he was feeling more like himself. His real self. The general who had commanded the armies of Asmodeus the Warlord. And yet, the past several decades he had spent as a sadistic and cannibalistic monster, and there was plenty of that personality in him left. He was rediscovering who he was, and now that the voices in his head were gone, he reveled in silence whenever he could.

The Imperial Guard had evacuated the building for Asmodeus' protection, and Haborym had spent his day rummaging through the apartments of the absent tenants. He had begun a collection of particularly jaunty hats when he heard a soft clatter in the hallway. He stuck his head out the doorframe, the wide brimmed pink flower top hat catching on the frame and bending like a bonnet.

"Helloooo?"

A member of the Imperial Guard, recognizable by their stark red armor, stood at the end of the hallway. And yet, something was different. Haborym frowned and took off the hat. "Hey. You there!"

The Guard did not move. At all. Suddenly, Haborym realized what was wrong. It was the smell. With that red armor, his vision might never have caught it from this far away, but Haborym was far too familiar with the smell of blood to miss it filling it the hallway, choking the corridor. Haborym quickly sprinted over to the Guard, who fell over suddenly and collapsed on the floor. He sniffed again. Blood. And lots of it. And a familiar smell as well. Perspiration, a distinctive sweat and smell. He had encountered this person before. Long, long ago...

The realization hit him suddenly. "Oh no." He sprinted for the lift. "Asmodeus! She's here!"

* * *

Asmodeus stood next to his dining room table, still looking out over the Dromund Kaas skyline. A glass of Corellian whiskey sat on the table, half finished. He knew what was coming. In a way, he had been waiting for it all his life. And if he were to die, he saw no greater justice than dying at the hands of the one he had wronged the most.

"Hello Calliope."

He turned and faced the young woman. Her red hair spilled over a dark scarf in a striking similarity to the blood dripping from her blade.

"I'm here to end you." Her voice was rough, raspy. She had fought her way through countless tortures to reach this moment. "You have to pay for your sins."

Asmodeus kneeled before her. He was ready. "End it, child. My soul is ready."

Haborym panted as he raced up the eastern stairwell to the dining room. Oryon sprinted up the western stairs, rifle in hand. They both reached the dining room at the same time, slamming doors open at the opposite ends of the room;

Just in time to see Calliope strike.


	8. Chapter 8

Asmodeus closed his eyes and waited for the end.

He reflected on his many sins, the results of which stood before him now, raising a blade to strike him down. He spent decades as a Warlord, crushing countless souls beneath his feet in his pursuit of omnipotence. He destroyed the life of an innocent child, sacrificing her to his greed and ambition. Calliope was the living embodiment of everything evil and wrong within him. When she had resurfaced in the Tartarus facility, he had briefly allowed himself to hope that he might get to attone for that sin. Fitting then, that his life be ended by the one most wounded by him. If he had to die, this was as close as he would ever get to an honorable passing.

Time seemed to slow as Calliope dealt the killing blow. As the blade fell, the East stairwell door burst open and a blaster shot was fired. At the same time, the Western stairwell door opened and a burst of Haborym's Force Lightning seared the air. For a microsecond, Asmodeus' heart beat in time with the marches of war once again. And that was when everything changed forever.

Golden energy struck all four combatants from behind, piercing their souls and causing them all to scream in agony. The impact of the attack caused the attackers to shift their aim. The blade dug into Asmodeus' meaty chest, wounding him, but stopping short of a fatal wound. The blaster bolt, fired by Oryon, caught him in the shoulder. He roared in pain. By the time the lightning struck him, instinct had taken over. He was under attack from all sides.

The golden blast dissipated, leaving everyone feeling weakened. Calliope would not allow the moment to pass. She placed a boot on Asmodeus' chest and retrieved her blade with a sharp kick. He stumbled backwards, disoriented and growling incoherently. She quickly dove for the final blow, gritting her teeth, driving her vibroblade towards the demon's heart.

She never got there. With astounding quickness, the giant Sith grabbed the girl. He roared in pain, and threw her to the ground beneath him. He continued his warcry as he drove his boot into her chest, again and again. Blood flowed from the wound in his chest, falling and mixing with the blood of the would-be assassin.

Oryon struggled to his feet and readied his rifle for another shot. He hesitated when he realized what was happened. The man before him was not the gentle and kind persona that had been fronted by Asmodeus for years. This was the Warlord. This was the evil creature that Oryon had suspected was underneath that facade all along. This was the man he came to kill.

His hesitation cost him dearly. Before his finger even reached the trigger, he was blasted back down the stairs by Haborym, who had regained his second wind and had leapt to protect his master. The air where Oryon had been standing sparked with ionization, and there was a stench of burning flesh. Haborym rushed to look down that stairwell, and witnessed Oryon at the bottom, battered and unconscious. As a threat, he was neutralized.

He turned back to Asmodeus, and found him kneeling on the floor. His blood-rage had passed, and he now cradled Calliope in his massive arms. He sobbed quietly as the life passed from her. As her final breath escaped, Asmodeus too felt a large part of him die with her. He choked back sobs, unable to catch his breath. Tears and blood danced and blended in dim light.

Asmodeus roared for a final time. Not a cry of war or anger, but a scream of anguish. Haborym bowed his head. Nothing would ever be the same again.

* * *

Back on Coruscant, Michael and Pravitas were still catching their breath from the invasive and piercing depowerment wave. The Guardian regarded them carefully. "You have been granted your lives. Be grateful. The Nexus is now that much safer without the Halcyon line polluting it."

Michael grit his teeth and struggled to his feet. "Piss off, you pretender."

The golden man could not help but smirk. "Still you resist? Come to terms with it, exile. The Nexus is no longer yours to protect. You will spend the rest of your now-natural life in this secluded galaxy, untouched by the Gateways."

Michael spit and ignited his saber. "You aren't listening to me. You want to be a Guardian, suit yourself. But this galaxy is my home. And it is protected."

The Guardian shrugged and turned back to the Rift. "I have no desire to inhabit this impotent reality any longer. Farewell, Exiles." A flash of light, and the Rift closed, sealing the Halcyon line away forever.

* * *

The galaxy went on, much as it had for countless millennia. At its various corners, those touched by the Halcyon line found themselves feeling weakened, somehow emptier. For some, this marked the end of an era. For others, it was only the beginning of a new story.

Oryon was arrested by the Dromund Kaas Imperial Guard. An encrypted holotape had been delivered to them, showing Oryon giving orders to an unknown assassin, presumed to be Calliope.

_"This is what I paid you for! I swear, if you do not kill Asmodeus now I will drop you back on that miserable rock I found you on!"_

He was charged with the hired assassination of 5 Sith Lords and the attempted assassination of a sixth. He was stripped of every rank and decoration and led away in chains.

Michael found in himself a new purpose in life. Cut off from his old life forever, he devoted himself to the protection of the galaxy he now called home. He sold everything he owned and purchased a plot of land on Yavin 4, with plans to create an Academy devoted to training a new incarnation of Guardians sworn to protect the galaxy against all threats. He resigned from his position in the Order of Mercy, passing his duties to a trusted associate.

Kaikorero remained on Nar Shaddaa under the care of her host, Tal'aran. With Oryon gone, there were none who knew of her original commission to kill Asmodeus, and she found a home and a purpose within the Phantom Legion.

Asmodeus, now a broken husk of the man he was, quietly stepped down from the Legion, leaving the matter of his replacement to be decided by the ruling Council members. He left all his worldly possessions to his beloved friend Volaro, and left Dromund Kaas. He abandoned his former self and took up residence on Yavin 4, declaring himself a pacifist and joining his former rival Michael in his Academy.

The galaxy continued to turn, but the Halcyon line was forever changed.

* * *

**Epilogue:**

Oryon waited patiently to arrive at whatever facility would be housing him. He did not regret his attempt on Asmodeus' life, but he did regret that he allowed his personal feelings to get in the way. That lapse in judgement had caused him to make mistakes, and had landed him with the six consecutive life sentences he now faced. There was no point in trying to claim his innocence. The footage of him giving orders to Kaikorero had been easily interpreted as a missive to Calliope, and therefore the deaths of the five Sith Lords had been laid on his head. It was of no consequence. Whatever Imperial facility he was dropped off at would simply serve as a safe location to plan his revenge.

The prison shipped cut the engines, and though the artificial gravity was still enabled, Oryon could detect the slight motion of the hull, indicating that they were not docked, but rather in orbit. This was not standard procedure for a prison transport. His eye narrowed. What was happening?

"Let's go, Blue." An Imperial soldier motioned with his gun, and Oryon stood.

"Where are we? What facility am I being interred in?"

"There's been a change of plans. Special request." The guard motioned to the escape pod.

Oryon had plenty of questions, but doubted that this lug would be able to answer them. There was little point in resisting, he was chained, and though he could eventually work his way out of them, there was no chance that he would not be killed in the process. He shuffled his way into the pod and sat. Without a word, the seal to the pod was closed, and seconds later it was blasted away from the prison transport. Oryon sat very still as the pod hit atmosphere. He remained motionless as it bounced and ignited against the friction of the air. If he was to be marooned, he would survive. But where was he being sent?

The pod crashed into a mountainside moments later. The seal opened again, and Oryon shuffled against his bonds to step outside, shielding his eye against the brightness of the sun. He could see vegetation, snow covered hills in the distance. Rocky crags and what appeared to be Republic facilities.

 _Belsavis..._ The irony was not lost on him.

He heard movement behind him, and faced several large men, who regarded the bound newcomer as a fresh piece of meat. They carried a variety of makeshift weapons, and were clad in the orange and tan jumpsuits of prisoners. A prison gang.

Oryon turned to face them. This was not going to be easy. But he had never allowed that to stop him before.

"Alright," He shifted, and the clasps fell from his wrists.

"Which one of you wants to die first?"


End file.
